Travel
Nigeria Travel Guide: Wetin You Need to Know Before You Come to Naija
Twenty things to sort out before you land, how long to stay, how to get around, and what it feels like to come home.
Travel
A personal travel guide through family, culture, resilience, and the Nigerian experience.
Returning to Nigeria after many years away is more than a vacation. It is a journey into memory.
For me, Nigeria was not simply another country on a travel itinerary. It was home. I had grown up with memories of Nigeria, its people, its food, its culture, its traditions, and its challenges. After leaving the country in 1995, I eventually returned as an adult with a completely different perspective.
I was no longer seeing Nigeria only as a child.
I was seeing it as a traveler, a family member, an American, a Nigerian, and someone who had traveled extensively around the world.
What I discovered was a country of contradictions.
Nigeria can frustrate you and amaze you on the same day. It can make you wait for hours and then give you an unforgettable experience. It can test your patience while simultaneously showing you some of the most generous, resilient, hardworking, and talented people you will ever meet.
If you are traveling to Nigeria, my best advice is simple:
Expect the unexpected.
Do not expect everything to operate according to the schedule you are accustomed to. Do not assume that because something is written down, it will happen exactly that way.
But at the same time, don't arrive with only negative expectations.
Nigeria may surprise you. And that is part of the adventure.
When I arrived in Lagos, one of the first things I noticed was that many of the infrastructure problems I remembered from years ago were still present.
There were challenges involving transportation, electricity, telecommunications, roads, and other basic systems that people in developed countries often take for granted.
Infrastructure and organized systems seemed to be inconsistent. Network connectivity could be unpredictable. Electricity was not always dependable. Transportation could be confusing. Even simple activities could require patience.
As I looked around, I couldn't help wondering how much progress had actually been made since I left Nigeria in 1995.
At the same time, I recognized something important.
Nigeria is not simply its infrastructure. Nigeria is its people.
I had not yet traveled extensively outside Lagos, so I knew that I was only seeing part of the picture.
I also knew that Nigerians themselves were tired of hearing the same stories about their country's problems.
Most people don't want sympathy. They want improvement. They want opportunity. They want their country to work.
One thing I immediately recognized was that being a returning visitor can place you in a different category.
Because I was coming from the United States, I sometimes received treatment that ordinary Nigerians might not receive.
That created mixed emotions.
On one hand, I appreciated the convenience. On the other hand, I felt somewhat uncomfortable knowing that I was receiving preferential treatment.
It reminded me that traveling through Nigeria as a visitor is different from living there every day.
Eventually, we arrived at my uncle's house.
That was when the trip truly began.
One thing you quickly learn about Nigerians is that most do not want you feeling sorry for them.
Nigerians are survivors.
Put many Nigerians into difficult circumstances and they will find a way to survive, adapt, work, and succeed.
There is an intensity about Nigerian culture that can sometimes surprise visitors.
People are assertive. People negotiate. People hustle. People look for opportunities. And people are often determined to get what they need.
For a tourist who isn't accustomed to this environment, that intensity can sometimes feel overwhelming.
But there is another way to look at it. It is survival.
If there is one thing that became immediately familiar to me, it was electricity.
NEPA—what many Nigerians traditionally call the power system—was still a major part of everyday conversation.
The electricity could disappear without warning. And when it did, the generator came on.
This is something I remember from childhood. Now, as an adult returning to Nigeria decades later, I found myself experiencing the same thing.
I sat in the house for more than five hours without electricity. Eventually, we had to use a generator.
I couldn't help shaking my head. At some point, I thought: “I'm experiencing the same thing I experienced as a child.”
That was frustrating.
The problem is bigger than inconvenience. Without reliable electricity, it becomes harder to operate businesses, plan activities, preserve food, use technology, work remotely, and build a modern economy.
Yet Nigerians have adapted. That is one of the defining characteristics of the Nigerian spirit.
The power goes out. The generator comes on. Business continues. Life continues. Nigeria continues.
Around 11:00 a.m., I noticed a Chinese man sitting on a Keke. I attempted to speak with him, but he told me he didn't speak English.
I found the encounter interesting because English is widely used in Nigeria, particularly in business and everyday communication.
I also noticed that many foreign nationals I encountered appeared to be involved in Nigerian commerce. Nigeria attracts people from around the world because of its enormous population, markets, resources, and economic opportunities.
There is clearly a strong international business presence.
We woke up before 5:00 a.m. to catch a 7:10 a.m. flight from Lagos to Owerri.
Breakfast was quick. We gathered our belongings. Then we headed to the airport.
Simple, right? Not exactly.
There was confusion about which Air Peace terminal entrance we were supposed to use. Our booking agent had confirmed one location. My uncle remembered another. And suddenly, something that should have been straightforward became complicated.
That is one of the lessons I learned during my trip: Never assume that something will happen exactly as planned.
Our 7:10 a.m. flight was delayed. Then delayed again. By approximately 9:51 a.m., we had already been waiting for several hours.
In Nigeria, you learn quickly that schedules can be flexible. Very flexible.
I started thinking that if I continued worrying about every delay, I would pull out what little hair I had left. Then I remembered: Wait a minute. I don't have any hair! 😂
Sometimes humor is the best way to survive travel frustration.
Eventually, we boarded. And something surprised me: the professionalism of the flight crew.
Despite the delays and confusion surrounding the airport experience, the flight attendants took their responsibilities seriously. They provided good service. They were professional. They appeared committed to doing their jobs well.
This reminded me of something important: a country can have serious systemic problems while its individual citizens continue doing excellent work.
That was one of the recurring themes of my trip. Nigeria's people often perform better than the systems around them.
When we landed in Owerri, my uncle was waiting for us. Before going to the house, we toured the city.
Owerri was alive. Street vendors were everywhere. People were moving from one place to another. School children were returning home. Businesses were operating. Police were managing traffic.
Government buildings and impressive homes stood alongside areas that were much less developed. It was another example of Nigeria's contrasts. You can see development and hardship existing almost side by side.
That evening, heavy rain fell. The rain was much more intense than what I was accustomed to experiencing in many parts of the United States.
Then, in the middle of the night, the electricity went out. Again.
The problem was that we were not in the city. There was heat. There was humidity. And there were mosquitoes. Fortunately, we had insect repellent. Without it, the night could have become a serious battle.
I have always had difficulty sleeping in unfamiliar environments. The bed itself was comfortable. The problem was the heat. Without air conditioning and electricity, sleeping became difficult.
Around 2:00 a.m., I was still awake. I was beginning to understand that traveling to Nigeria required more than packing clothes. You had to prepare mentally.
Nigeria is a deeply cultural society. Greetings matter. Family relationships matter. Titles matter. Age matters. Traditions matter.
Many customs have been passed down through generations.
As preparations for my brother's wedding continued, I found myself navigating traditions that were important to my family.
I am not a traditionalist, but I respect culture. My faith also shapes how I approach traditional practices.
I believe in honoring people and respecting the customs of the land, provided those customs do not conflict with my relationship with God and my faith in Jesus Christ.
For me, this meant participating respectfully while maintaining my personal convictions.
My best childhood friend arrived from the United Kingdom to help with the wedding. His arrival meant a lot to me.
We had known each other since childhood, and having someone familiar around made the trip more comfortable. He connected through another flight and, by God's grace, arrived safely in Owerri.
We went together with family members to register for the wedding. But even registration wasn't simple.
We were asked to produce my brother's baptismal certificate. The certificate couldn't immediately be located. Then the handwritten church records had to be checked.
Once again, something that should have been simple became an adventure.
That evening, my aunt came to visit. Our relationship carried a difficult history. There were things that had happened many years earlier involving me, my sister, my mother, and my father.
I could have allowed the past to control the moment. Instead, I decided to show her kindness.
Forgiveness does not necessarily mean pretending that nothing happened. Sometimes forgiveness means refusing to allow the past to control your present.
She had become older and weaker. She was still my aunt. And regardless of our history, I wanted to treat her with compassion.
I sensed that she had more to say. Perhaps one day she would say it. For the moment, I chose peace.
The wedding day arrived. The morning began with prayer.
Family members were everywhere. People were preparing food. Clothes were being ironed. Relatives were moving around the compound. Everyone had something to do.
That is one thing I noticed about Nigerian family gatherings: nobody is just a spectator. Everybody becomes part of the operation.
The groom's baptism was scheduled for approximately 9:30 a.m. As the time approached, the groom became increasingly anxious. That was understandable. Marriage is a major step.
Eventually, he headed to the chapel. I later joined him with my mother and my best friend.
The baptism was completed, and the wedding celebration continued.
One of the most noticeable parts of my experience was the importance of money. People frequently talked about money. People needed money. People asked for money. And sometimes people went out of their way to provide services because they expected compensation.
I believe some of this behavior must be understood within the economic environment. When people live under significant economic pressure, money becomes more than a luxury. It becomes survival.
That doesn't excuse every behavior, but it helps explain some of it.
Then came the music. And this is where Nigeria truly shines.
The choir was incredible. The orchestra was impressive. The singing was powerful. The dancing was energetic.
There is something about Nigerian music and performance that is difficult to explain unless you experience it firsthand.
Nigeria may have problems with infrastructure and government systems, but its people possess extraordinary artistic talent. Singers. Dancers. Musicians. Cooks. Entertainers. Entrepreneurs.
This creativity is one of Nigeria's greatest assets.
After the church ceremony, the traditional wedding began. We met elders from our village in Egbema, Ozubulu.
Some remembered us from childhood. One person even remembered my brothers taking tools from his house when we were young.
That was a reminder that in a traditional community, your history follows you. People remember. Families remember. Stories survive generations.
We were introduced to elders and participated in traditional greetings. Some traditions required kneeling before elders.
As someone whose deepest spiritual reverence is directed toward God, I found myself carefully considering the meaning of these practices.
Respect for elders is one thing. Worship is another. For me, maintaining that distinction was important.
The traditional ceremony included the breaking of the kola nut. This is an important cultural practice in many Igbo communities.
The ceremony continued with introductions, dancing, music, and changing outfits. The bride wore three different outfits during the celebration.
Eventually, she came out in another beautiful traditional outfit. She approached her father, received the wine, and began searching through the crowd for her husband. When she found him, she presented the wine.
My brother placed money into the cup. The couple then went before the family and elders. The parents and elders blessed the marriage.
Eventually, we returned to the groom's compound. It had been a long day. But it was also a memorable day.
After the wedding, the family began saying goodbye. We woke up to relatives visiting and sharing memories.
There was food. There was conversation. There was palm wine. There were wedding pictures. For a while, everything felt peaceful.
Then my back began hurting. Badly. The pain became increasingly uncomfortable and almost crippling. 😫
By approximately 4:00 p.m., we started preparing to travel back to Owerri. We left around 5:00 p.m. and arrived around 6:00 p.m.
The journey itself was interesting. Traveling through Nigeria gives you an opportunity to observe people and places that you would never experience from an airport or hotel.
My brother, his bride, and I stayed at Majav Hotel Suites in Owerri. My mother stayed with her sisters.
The following morning, we prepared for the next flight. Before leaving, we also saw the house my aunt and her husband had built in Owerri.
We boarded our flight back to Lagos. Unfortunately, the airport experience immediately reminded me of some of the challenges I had already encountered.
There were lines. There was waiting. There was confusion. There were luggage issues. There seemed to be less organization than I was accustomed to seeing in American airports.
By the time we returned to Lagos, I was frustrated. I decided that staying indoors for a while might be the best way to enjoy the remainder of the trip.
If you are visiting Nigeria for the first time, I recommend traveling with people you trust. Small groups can be easier to manage. Trusted family members or friends can help you navigate unfamiliar environments. Large crowds can sometimes become difficult to manage.
The lesson isn't to fear Nigeria. It is to understand your surroundings.
Travel intelligently. Stay alert. Know where you are going. And listen to people who understand the environment.
At this point, I was looking forward to returning to the United States.
The electricity problem remained one of my biggest frustrations. The mosquito problem was another. Without air conditioning during power outages, sleeping could become uncomfortable.
Still, my uncle's house provided a peaceful place to rest. It was quiet and comfortable.
Lagos, on the other hand, could feel overwhelming. The noise. The traffic. The business activity. The constant movement. Lagos never seemed to stop.
It reminded me of a place where everyone was working toward something. Career. Business. Money. Opportunity. Survival.
The environment can feel like a constant competition.
We traveled to my mother's house. It was pouring rain. And yet, Lagos continued operating.
Street vendors were underneath bridges. Merchants were protecting their goods from the rain. People continued selling. People continued buying. People continued moving. The weather wasn't going to stop them.
This is another thing I learned about Nigeria: the hustle never stops. People depend on their daily income. If they don't work, they may not eat. That reality creates an incredible level of determination.
On the way to my mother's house, we met the person responsible for helping maintain the property. He was an older Hausa man who was friendly, humorous, and energetic. My mother spoke positively about his reliability.
Meeting people like him reminded me that Nigeria is made up of many ethnic groups and cultures. The Nigerian experience cannot be reduced to one tribe, one city, or one perspective.
My mother had been excited to show us her house. She wanted something that could eventually benefit her children.
The house was located in a more remote area surrounded by rural markets. It wasn't necessarily where I would have chosen to live, but it was a nice house. My mother was proud of it. And seeing her pride made the visit meaningful.
There was also a problem with tenants. They were reportedly behind on their rent and had become difficult when the caretaker requested payment. My mother decided to terminate the tenancy and gave them until the end of the month to leave.
Once again, the Nigerian experience demonstrated that owning property comes with its own challenges.
On the way back, we stopped to buy corn from street vendors. This is one part of Nigeria I absolutely love. The food.
Nigerian food is outstanding. And I'm not saying that simply because I'm Nigerian. As someone who served in the Navy and traveled around the world, I've had the opportunity to experience food from many countries. But Nigerian food remains one of my favorites.
Street food can be simple. It can be inexpensive. But it can also be incredibly delicious. The food alone is worth experiencing.
My cousins arrived and spent some time with us. It was good to see them. Eventually, it was time to head to the airport.
My aunt accompanied us. She had been a wonderful host, and I appreciated everything she had done.
Then came the airport line. Again. We waited. And waited.
The concept of orderly lines can sometimes be different in Nigeria than what Americans are accustomed to. People may try to move ahead. Some people may have connections. Others may simply believe they have a reason to go first.
After more than two hours, we finally received our boarding passes.
My brother and I were taking different flights. His flight was direct to Atlanta. Mine connected through London. And just like that, the journey was coming to an end.
If there is one thing I can say about Nigeria, it is this: Nigeria is never boring. Good or bad, something is always happening.
There are characters everywhere. There are stories everywhere. There are businesses everywhere.
There are musicians, vendors, families, politicians, entrepreneurs, students, police officers, taxi drivers, street merchants, pastors, traditional leaders, and ordinary people simply trying to make a living.
Nigeria keeps you guessing. And perhaps that is one of the reasons people love it.
If you are planning a trip to Nigeria, here are some lessons from my experience.
Flights may be delayed. Traffic may be unpredictable. Appointments may take longer than expected. Give yourself extra time.
Things may not happen according to the schedule. Don't let every inconvenience ruin your trip.
If you are unfamiliar with Nigeria, having family members or trusted friends who understand the environment can make your experience much easier.
Especially if you are staying outside major urban areas. Mosquitoes can become a serious nuisance.
If you need electricity for medical equipment, work, communication, or other essential purposes, have a backup plan. Generators are common, but don't assume electricity will always be available.
Nigeria will test it. And then test it again.
This may be my most important piece of advice. Do not mistake infrastructure problems for a lack of intelligence, ambition, or ability. The Nigerian people are resourceful. They adapt. They survive. They create businesses. They solve problems. They continue moving forward.
After reflecting on my trip, I created my own personal report card.
Despite delays, confusion, boarding issues, and baggage challenges, I was impressed by the professionalism of the flight attendants. The flights themselves were safe, and the staff demonstrated a strong spirit of service.
Nigerians are hardworking and passionate. When people take their responsibilities seriously, they can provide exceptional service. The spirit of service is there.
This is where Nigeria truly shines. Electricity problems? Keep working. Traffic? Keep moving. Bad roads? Find another route. Economic challenges? Find another business. Network problems? Find another way to communicate.
Nigerians continue to rise to the challenge. Don't feel sorry for Naija. They are survivors.
The electricity situation remains one of the biggest challenges. A modern economy cannot function efficiently without dependable energy.
Businesses need electricity. Hospitals need electricity. Schools need electricity. Families need electricity. Technology requires electricity. Nigeria's future depends heavily on solving this problem.
One of the observations I made was that people often seemed focused on individual survival. That is understandable when economic conditions are difficult. But long-term national development requires cooperation.
People must be willing to think beyond “How do I get ahead?” and begin asking “How do we move forward together?”
Schedules sometimes seemed more like suggestions than commitments. Meetings, transportation, flights, and appointments could all experience delays. Visitors should build extra time into their schedules.
This was another area that stood out to me. Whether waiting in line, navigating traffic, or dealing with public establishments, disorder can create unnecessary frustration.
Following traffic rules, respecting lines, and maintaining organized systems would make daily life much easier.
Despite everything I experienced, I would go back. Why?
Because Nigeria is family. Nigeria is culture. Nigeria is food. Nigeria is music. Nigeria is laughter. Nigeria is struggle. Nigeria is resilience. Nigeria is memory. Nigeria is home.
The trip reminded me that sometimes returning home is not about finding the country you remember. It is about discovering the country that exists now.
Nigeria has problems. Serious problems. But Nigeria also has extraordinary people. And those people refuse to give up. That is what impressed me the most.
Perhaps the greatest thing I took away from Nigeria was the feeling of being around my own people. There is something powerful about being somewhere where you don't have to explain yourself.
You know the food. You understand the expressions. You recognize the humor. You understand the family dynamics. You know the music. You recognize the culture. And, most importantly, you feel connected to your roots.
After traveling around the world and spending years away from Nigeria, returning reminded me that identity isn't simply where you live. Sometimes, it is where your story began.
If you are planning your first trip to Nigeria, remember these words:
Expect the unexpected.
Don't have unrealistic expectations. But don't have unnecessarily low expectations either.
Come prepared. Come with patience. Come with an open mind. Come with trusted people. Come ready to experience the food. Come ready to hear the music. Come ready to meet the people. Come ready to laugh. Come ready to wait.
And most importantly—come ready to experience Nigeria for yourself.
Because Nigeria may frustrate you. Nigeria may surprise you. Nigeria may exhaust you. Nigeria may make you laugh. Nigeria may make you shake your head.
But one thing is almost certain: Nigeria will not be boring. And long after you leave, Nigeria will remain in your memory. Good or bad. Frustrating or beautiful. Complicated or inspiring. It stays with you.
Naija stays with you.
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